Tale of Two Sisters
by Scarlet Tabby
Summary: Oneshot, takes place between It's Never Long Enough and Finally Forever (but could be read as a stand-alone) Irina wakes up from a dream crying, prompting Jack to search for what's upsetting her. Irina explains parts of her childhood, growing up as the youngest Derevko with the dreaded Katya and terrifying Elena.


Author's Note: Hello, dear readers! I'm back again with more for our favorite spy couple :) This story takes place in between It's Never Long Enough and Finally Forever, about a year or so after Jack and Irina faked their deaths.

The first 200 or so words of this story came to me in the middle of the night a few days ago, and I decided to just run with it. And here's what I came up with, 4,000 words later. I have this nasty little habit of trying to find the good in everyone, especially when a person is so universally disliked. Which, of course, brings us to the Derevkos. I love Irina. Obviously. But I HATE both Katya and Elena. Hate them so much. So I had to find something redeeming in them. That's sort of all I have to say on the subject, I think. Please read and review and let me know what you think! I love nothing more than hearing from fellow Alias fans. You guys are the best!

**Tale of Two Sisters**

Jack was gradually awoken by a strange sensation on his chest. He shifted slightly and saw Irina clutching his undershirt and crying softly. Being as gentle as he could, he shook her awake. He sighed sadly. She had done this before.

"Irina? Honey? Wake up, sweetheart." He moved her body off of him so he could sit up in bed.

Her eyes fluttered open. She followed his lead and sat up, not saying anything. Part of her was frustrated that this kept happening. Another part of her was slightly embarrassed of it. But the biggest part of her just felt lost.

Jack wiped the tears off her face. She had stopped crying. She usually did once she was aware of it. "Are you alright?" he asked in a quiet voice. She was grateful. He was so good in situations like this. At least, he was with her.

"I hate when this happens," she replied. "I wake up feeling so empty inside. Like I'm going to collapse in on the hole in my heart. Like I'm falling apart."

"What can I do?"

Irina curled up in his arms, resting her head just below his chin. "Just hold me. Just hold me together, Jack."

He kissed her forehead and said nothing. He could hold her for awhile. He could wait for her to get a little bit of her own back. It was hard for him to see her like this. This was the part of herself she had always kept from him when she was Laura. This was the part of her that she had dealt with all alone for those twenty years they were apart. It had surprised him at first, the terrifying darkness within her. This wasn't her cruelty or her cunning. No, if he were honest, he would have to admit that he quite liked that about her. This darkness was one of fear and sadness and loss. It was, however, one of the things that had brought them closer together in their recent years. The darkness was something they shared, for better or worse.

Jack could feel Irina relax in his arms. He caressed her arms and back, soothing the rest of the sadness away. "Was it Nadia again?" he whispered.

Usually when Irina cried in her sleep, it was because she was dreaming of her dead daughter. Seeing Nadia in her dreams always made Irina's heart soar, but then she would always be overcome with those feelings of loss and guilt. But this wasn't one of those dreams. "No. Elena."

He was taken aback. "Elena? Why?" Elena Derevko was nothing less than a monster. Her death had been a blessing. Why should Irina be crying for her?

Irina sat up and out of Jack's arms. She didn't want to feel the tension in his body when she talked about this. "She was my sister, Jack. She was a truly atrocious person, but she was my sister. I don't dream about the woman who murdered dozens in cold blood or kidnapped and tortured me or tried to bring about the apocalypse. I dream about the sister who practically raised me."

Jack stared at her. It surprised him sometimes, this capacity for love and forgiveness that Irina possessed. Laura always had it, but he had somehow put that out of his mind when he discovered her true identity. How could the woman he had married, the woman who ran an international crime syndicate, and the sad woman sitting in front of him all be the same person?

Irina watched him look at her. His face was so unreadable to so many. She knew he worked very hard to keep it that way. But she could tell what was going on in that brilliant, handsome head of his. Not always, certainly. He could hide things even from her if he really wanted, not that he did anymore. In this moment, however, Irina knew just what he was thinking.

She smiled and put her hand on his chest in a gesture of affection. "I forget sometimes that you don't know everything about me. You act like you do. But my childhood isn't in my file, is it?"

"You mean you didn't grow up in a suburb of Michigan as an only child?" he shot back in a sarcastic tone.

Irina frowned. That was her back-story for Laura Anderson. "Must you do that?" She really hated it when he brought up her past crimes. There were so many. It would take a lifetime to sift through and correct every single one. Jack certainly had a right to still be a little upset about it, but sometimes he was just obnoxious about it.

Jack took her hand in his and kissed the back of it softly. "I'm sorry. Knee-jerk reaction."

She didn't like that response. Irina took her hand back. "It's your knee-jerk reaction to try to hurt me?"

He had to try very hard not to roll his eyes. Irina was the same as ever. Argumentative to the point of insanity. It might be a character flaw, but it was always one of the things that Jack had loved about her. She never ever stopped standing up for herself. She wouldn't allow herself to give in to him on anything unless she really wanted to. But as attractive a quality as Jack found it, it could be exceedingly frustrating. Like it was right now.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then you shouldn't say things you do not mean. It's a waste of time and energy. Mixing words is beneath you, Jack."

"Irina!" he snapped.

She bit her lip to keep from giggling. She was starting to get to him. She was glad. Jack was the most honest when he was angry. They could cut through the manipulation, the mind games, and the self-control that Jack used as a wall around his emotions. That was the one advantage Irina had always had over him. His anger led him to let go of things he tried to keep close to his heart. When Irina got angry, she just got violent, but that was something Jack could always handle.

Jack calmed himself down. In a cold voice he told her, "I don't like being reminded that my wife is a complete mystery to me."

Irina exhaled slightly. There it was. There was more truth in that one simple sentence than in most of the things Jack Bristow ever uttered. He called her his wife. That was all she needed. She could let him be mad at her as long as he remembered that she was still his and always would be.

"Don't play the victim, Jack."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"There is quite a bit you don't know about me. I won't deny that. But don't pretend like you've told me everything about you either. At least you've gotten to see my complete file. Yours is redacted to the point of being completely useless."

He was about to fire back a response when her last statement caught him slightly by surprise. "You've seen my file?"

She smirked. "If you can even call it that."

"How?" His brow furrowed.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Irina said sarcastically. She didn't let him answer. "That is of little consequence at the moment. Since you're so upset about what you don't know about me, why don't you ask me something? Ask me anything you want. I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Jack didn't say anything for a moment. He scrutinized the enigma of a woman in front of him. She looked at him with those bright brown eyes, full of so much spirit. They stared into his dark eyes now with determination and faith and…there it was. Love. He always waited to see that sparkle before he ever opened up to her. It was getting easier and easier now that they had completely committed their lives to one another.

"Alright, Irina. I suppose it makes the most sense to cover exactly what it was that brought us to this discussion. Tell me about your childhood. Tell me why you still cry for your sister, even after all she's done to everyone you love."

She smiled. "I'm surprised you haven't asked me about my sisters sooner. Doesn't it fascinate you, three brilliant KGB agents in one family? Two became criminal assassins and one rose up the ranks in the Russian army. Never crossed your mind how that came about?"

Jack chuckled, allowing the levity in her voice dictate the tone of the conversation. "I can honestly say that you are the only Derevko I ever want to cross my mind. I don't really have the kindest memories associated with the other two. But we're talking about what you think about your sisters, not what I think." He knew he was being obvious in steering the discussion away from himself. He didn't want Katya to be brought up. He didn't like thinking about the insane night he had spent with the woman, and he knew it boiled Irina's blood to be reminded of the fact that her husband slept with her sister. It still made him feel mildly guilty. And as for Elena, because of her, Jack had been tricked into believing he had murdered the love of his life.

"Alright, Jack. I'll keep the focus off of you." She sighed and pushed her hair behind her ear, the habit that Sydney had inherited from her. "I guess I'll start off with the fact that I was the baby. When I was born, Elena was already six years old and Katya was four. My first memory as a child was when I was probably about three. Katya always treated me like I was her own personal little china doll. She dragged me everywhere with her. On this particular occasion, she had my hand clutched in hers as we walked down the street to who knows where. It was spring and the snow was just starting to melt, so the street was full of muddy slush. I wanted to jump in the puddles, but Katya kept pulling me with her. It made me so mad! So my little three-year-old brain decided to rebel."

"Typical," Jack interjected.

Irina laughed. "I know. No one should have been surprised that I ended up as I did. Anyway, I was finally able to yank my hand away and I immediately ran back to the biggest puddle I could find. Little did I know that the puddle in question was in the middle of the street we had just crossed. I was so focused on the puddles and getting away from Katya that I didn't even notice the cars. The next thing I knew, my little ears was assaulted with the sound of horns and screeching breaks, and I was lying on the side of the road. Katya caught up to me and practically threw me out of the way of the oncoming traffic. She saved my life, I'm sure of it. But she also broke her leg in the process. And she never ever let me forget it. So there I was, scared out of my wits, watching my sister cry and scream in pain. I didn't know what to do."

"Of course not. You were three. So what happened?"

"I don't know how long we sat there, crying. Me out of fear and desperation and Katya out of incredible pain. But eventually Elena found us. She called an ambulance for Katya and took me home. That was the first time I remember getting in trouble with Elena. The first of many, many times. She yelled all the way home. I just kept crying. I think my tears annoyed her. She slapped my face with more force than a nine year old should possess. I was so shocked that I stopped crying immediately. And she looked at me with those cold eyes and said, 'Ira, your tears don't do anyone any good. I don't want to see you cry anymore. You're too big for it now. You weren't paying attention and Katya got hurt and it is your fault. So next time, you will find something better to do with your time than run away and cry about the consequences.'"

Sometimes Jack was a little shocked about the cultural differences between America and the Soviet Union. He couldn't imagine his older sister saying anything like that to him, especially when he was so small. "Where were your parents in all of this?"

"Probably at the restaurant." Seeing Jack's puzzled face, she explained, "My grandparents owned a restaurant near the Kremlin. The officers would go there often. My father went into government work, starting as an assistant in the Politburo. When my grandparents died, my father inherited the restaurant. My mother managed it while my father worked at the Kremlin, and my sisters and I worked for Mama when we were old enough. We catered mostly to KGB and government officials. They recruited Elena and Katya very quickly. Papa tried to keep them from taking me too, but obviously that didn't quite work out."

Jack redirected the conversation. "While all of this is very interesting, it doesn't explain anything to me about Elena that changes my view of her."

Irina thought for a moment. She had a million stories she could tell about her sisters. But which one would illustrate to Jack the importance of Elena in her life? How could she express how Elena had been the driving force that made Irina the woman she was? Then she knew. "There's much more to it than just this, but I think I know what will help you understand my sister, who she really was beyond the gruesome statistics in her file or the terrifying havoc she wreaked on our lives. I was fourteen. Katya had just been recruited. Elena was about to graduate. I was left to help Mama at the restaurant. I'm sure you can imagine me running around, delivering food and drink to tables of Soviet officials."

He smiled. "I'm sure you were very popular."

She shared his grin. "Of course I was. But it was mostly because I was a good waitress. I never wrote anything down and never made a mistake. I was quick and efficient and very polite, at least until they tried to stiff me for my tip. But when I reached about fourteen, I started developing into womanhood. I grew about a foot in a year. I was tall and skinny and that was about it."

Jack surveyed her body, trying to imagine it without the womanly curves he so appreciated. "So is that when you got those legs." He loved her legs. He loved everything about her, but those legs, the way they wrapped around him, the way they went on forever, the power she had in them. Those legs could make his head spin. He reached over to stroke her thigh.

She slapped his hand away. "You keep off my legs. And what's between them. You asked me a question and I'm trying to answer. Stop distracting me."

He smirked. "Sorry."

Irina patted his hand. "Later. Anyway, I was fourteen when the men started noticing me. Mama was usually too busy to see, though she scolded the men when she did catch them leering at me. There were a few of the younger men with less self-control than the older ones. They'd give me a pinch or a pat when I walked by. It was annoying but nothing more. But because I never did anything about it, they got bolder. Elena was home visiting for a weekend. She was helping in the kitchen while I was washing the tables. It was almost closing time. There was just one table of men left, three of them, all too drunk to do anything except keep drinking. I had to ask them to leave. One grabbed my arm and pulled me onto his lap. Another one tried to kiss me but I dodged him. He ended up just attaching himself to my neck. The last got his hands halfway up my blouse before Elena came out to see what was going on. She was livid. She pulled out her gun and shot the handsy one in the leg. They all got properly scared and ran out. I collapsed on the floor and cried. I was too scared to do anything else.

"Elena grabbed my arms and tried to drag me up, but I was just dead weight. She slapped me and scolded me. She said, 'What have I always told you about crying, Ira? There's no use. You're not doing anything. Why didn't you get those men off you?' I didn't know why. I couldn't do anything. I was helpless. I told her so. And I will never forget what she said. 'You are a Derevko. You will never be helpless ever again, I can promise you that. Stand up. We're doing this right now.'

"And right then and there, Elena gave me my first lessons in basic self-defense and fighting. Turns out those long legs of mine are perfect for a roundhouse kick. We sparred for about an hour before she moved on to showing me the finer points of knife handling. By the time she let me go to bed that night, I had garnered about a week's worth of KGB basic physical training. And Elena was right. I was never helpless again. The next time a man tried anything on me, he got what was coming to him. Aleksandr Khasinau was in the restaurant one night when I broke a man's arm and held a steak knife to his throat. I was recruited on the spot.

"Honestly, Jack, I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for Elena. That wasn't the first or last time she saved me, but it was the time with the most impact. Do you see now? Why I can't help but be indebted to her?" Irina finished her tale and waited for him to respond.

"Why were you crying in your dream? I think Elena might have frowned on that."

Irina laughed. "She hated when I cried. But because of the ways she was, she always ended up making me want to cry, but I never let her see. I learned early on how much it hurts to get slapped around. I developed a thicker skin over the years, literally and figuratively, but Elena always hurt me more than anyone else ever could. She knew exactly what would harm me the most."

"So the dream?"

Her head dropped, and Irina stared at her hands. "I don't want to tell you."

Jack took her face in his hands and caressed her cheeks. "You can tell me anything. I promise I won't laugh."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be patronizing. It doesn't suit either of us. But fine, I'll tell you. In my dream, Elena and I were children again. I was probably about six, making her about twelve. We were walking through the snowy streets of Moscow. And she was telling me all the things I always knew but she never said. She told me how much smarter I was than Katya. How I would be so much more than she ever would. That if I worked really hard, I could even be as good as her, as good as Elena. Katya always taught me to bring glory to the Motherland, but Elena wanted me to bring glory to the Derevkos. She was saying that together, she and I could be better than anyone would ever believe. Men would cower in fear at our very names. And she was right, wasn't she? What Elena and I did? But she was committing her terrors while I was in America with you, and she had disappeared by the time I escaped from Kashmir. Of course, now we know she was in Argentina with my Nadia, but I gained my power once she became dormant. In my dream, we were so young and innocent. She wanted power like I always knew she did, but in my dream, she wanted it for the two of us together. Elena always saw something in me that no one else even did, not even me, until I began excelling at the Academy. Anyway, that's what made me cry. She might have been a thoroughly despicable individual, but she was so strong, so good at what she did. She wanted me with her. At one time, my sister wanted me by her side."

"Before she tortured you to near death."

Irina shoved his arm. "Why must you ruin everything?"

Jack chuckled and gathered her in his arms, ignoring her frustrated struggles. "I'm sorry. She destroyed so many lives, Irina, ours included. But I understand now, honey. She was the one person in your life who knew you were destined for greatness. She knew before anyone else how incredible you were. She just didn't quite show it in the best ways. Honestly, I think she was threatened by you."

"Elena? Threatened by me?" The idea seemed too foreign in Irina's mind. To her, Elena would always be the stronger big sister. Even though she was dead, she still seemed so indestructible.

"Sure. Don't tell me that the great Irina Derevko is getting modest. You know better than anyone else what you accomplished. And what was Elena doing when you were out making a name for yourself? Hiding out in Argentina, running an orphanage. I think it's safe to say you won, honey."

"Jack…"

He noticed she had stopped pushing him away. She felt small in his arms, like she was trying to shrink away. "What is it?"

"That's not only why I was crying."

"Why else?"

She admitted in a small voice, "In that moment, in that dream, I wanted to join her. I wanted the power and everything else she promised for us. I wanted what we could do together, Elena and I."

He understood immediately. "And then you realized that you shouldn't want it. But you didn't feel bad about wanting it, even though you should. You were guilty about your lack of guilt."

She turned to face him in surprise. "How did you know?"

Jack placed a small kiss on her forehead before leaning his head against hers. "I'm realizing that, while I don't know much about your past, I do know you. You're Laura Bristow and you're Irina Derevko. You're the woman I married, and you're the woman in your file. But most importantly, you're the woman I love. I know how your head works, as much as it scares me sometimes."

"Nothing scares you, Jack," she said with a small smile.

"You scare me, Irina. What you do to me scares me. I loved you without question and without reservation for ten years, and you devastated me completely. If it weren't for Sydney, I honestly think I would have died. The idea that I can't help but love you so much scares me. I turned my back on the entire world for you. And I don't regret it. That scares me."

Irina leaned in and kissed him. "So be scared. You'll eventually see that you don't have to be. Nothing but time will convince you of that. But I'm scared too."

"Why should you be scared?"

"Every time I'm with you and we're happy, we have to say goodbye. When I was Laura, I always knew that one day I'd have to leave you. I keep thinking that something will happen, and we'll be forced apart again."

This time he kissed her. "No one knows we're alive. We're free. But you know that. I guess we'll just have to be scared together."

Irina wrapped her hands in his hair and pulled him on top of her. "There's no one I'd rather be with."

He smiled as he kissed her lips and her cheeks and her neck. "I love you, Irina," he mumbled into her flesh.

"I love you, Jack." She wrapped her impossibly long legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.

The pair was lost in a tangle of limbs and bed sheets until the sun began to rise in the eastern sky.

**The End**

**For now...**

A/N2: Please review! Also, I have more JI oneshots planned, so keep a weather eye on the horizon :)


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